


Among Rejected Dreams

by lluviadinoche



Series: Americano Through The Years [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 1920s, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Denial of Feelings, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Falling In Love, First Love, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Fuckbuddies, Hate Sex, Love/Hate, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:01:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25639924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lluviadinoche/pseuds/lluviadinoche
Summary: Alfred and Lorenzo meet again for the first time in ages and they are reminded of a time long ago before the pain when they promised devotion and love to one another when dreams had hope and life seemed so promising. Longing for the clock to turn back, they fall on a terrible game that can lead to nothing but more heartbreak for them.But, isn't that so much better than admitting that perhaps they still love each other all these years later?----This is an Americano fic that I wrote based on headcanons my friend and I have when it comes to Alfred and Lorenzo's relationship throughout history and our headcanon that they began a friends with benefits type relationship in order to ignore the fact that they were still deeply in love with the other but afraid of finding out that the other didn't feel the same.
Relationships: America/South Italy (Hetalia)
Series: Americano Through The Years [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1858888
Comments: 9
Kudos: 29





	Among Rejected Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Lorenzo = Romano
> 
> My friend @doodle-famous and I have been on such an Americano run and we talked headcanons and came up with Alfred and Lorenzo beginning a friends with benefits relationship but neither really enjoying it. Where Lorenzo wants more from Alfred and Alfred feels dirty after every time they sleep together, they keep it up because they want to keep hoping maybe one of these days that they will feel just like they felt after the first time they slept with each other in the 1920s
> 
> Alfred is under the impression that Lorenzo only slept with him for money and Lorenzo believes Alfred only slept with him to use him just like many others in Europe had.
> 
> As for them in the 1920s, we headcanon they had a very good bond and a nice domestic relationship. Lorenzo worried a lot about Alfred overworking himself (and still does), so he would always greet him with dinner and a drink when he got home, hoping it helped bring him away from everything he did at work. It eventually became habit and was their escape time from life.
> 
> The ONLY night that Lorenzo didn't greet Alfred when he got home was the day that he told him he had to go back to Italy.
> 
> I may write more on my headcanons of their relationship and how it developed (so from 1890s-1920s) if you guys are interested, but anyway, have my first fic with NSFW that I am sharing because it is actually important to the plot.

[MESSAGE SENT TO: Italy] ‘Come visit my office’

It was the first time Alfred contacted him on his own since he had left the first time.

* * *

“You’re home!” his voice rang through the place like it always did. That lovely chirp and the steps that always followed. It was as if he expected the routine to change or like Alfred had been gone for longer than his normal hours. Though, he couldn’t say he was perturbed by it at all.

Lorenzo greeted him with a kiss on each cheek - something that always warmed him up and he wasn’t quite sure why - and a glass of whiskey. He hugged him tight today. That was new. But Alfred didn’t care. He loved it.

“How was your day?” he asked, guiding him to sit down.

He didn’t understand how he did it either. Alfred always came home to him ready to listen to him talk about his day. Sometimes Lorenzo even rubbed his shoulders or sang to him while petting his hair - things Alfred absolutely adored. He did it all as if he hadn’t been busting his ass in a factory or cleaning up his place just to come back and make dinner for them with no time to wipe the dirt from his face. And yet...he always smiled and listened. So Alfred always talked.

Somewhere in the middle of talking about someone messing up a document and how he was dealing with the mess it caused, he caught sight of his eyes.

Hazel eyes stared up at him and listened intently to every word he said. And even now, they blinked in confusion, the light in them dimming just a bit.

“Is something wrong?”

He tilted his head and something inside of him stirred as he saw those curls flop to the side. He reached forward to brush some of his hair back and thought for a moment about pulling him in for a kiss. His fingers grazed his cheek and Lorenzo leaned forward, eyes wider than before. And yet...he was still a coward. He pulled his hand away and cleared his throat.

Attempting to stand up, he avoided looking at Lorenzo and tried to think of all the work that he had to get to. All the things he had to do. All the work that he had to turn away from Lorenzo and dinner for. He was busy. Too busy. Busy and occupied and-

It took Lorenzo two seconds after that to pull him in for a kiss and drop them both to the floor.

* * *

“Why did you call me here?” Lorenzo asked, arms folded, “I don’t think we’re exactly on the best terms, America. And I can’t think of a reason you would need me here.”

He hated the formality.

“Am I not allowed to ask a friend to see me?”

“We’re not friends.”

He frowned and grabbed the water bottle next to him, taking a large gulp and wishing pain killers could take away the bleeding of his heart that he desperately tried to mask with a quick smile.

“I think we are. Just because we haven’t talked in a while doesn’t mean we aren’t. You used to-”

“America I don’t think you get it. I don’t want to _be_ friends. You invaded me and I’m not in the mood to speak to you. So why did you call me here? Let’s get this over with so I can go back home.”

Alfred wondered if a soul could get a blood transfusion because though he was physically all together, he wanted to faint and fall over anyway.

The most unforgiving of thorns weaved their way up and squeezed his lungs. Each piercing hurting worse than the last.

What did he say to that?

What had be been expecting to begin with?

It had been a lifetime ago now and those dreams had died. Why had he called Romano over if he knew that it might end with him being hurt more? Once, it had been money that tore his heart in two and now it was the lingering whispers of words from a night so distant that taunted him in the presence of a man who could not stand him.

His rose’s wicked thorns rotted in his wounds.

* * *

“Have you ever done this before?”

“Uhm...no” Alfred looked away, face bright red, “Have you?”

“You know the answer to that…”

“Even like this?”

“I’ve done a lot of things I wish I hadn’t, Alfred.”

“Will you wish you hadn’t done this?”

Lorenzo looked at Alfred properly. His face tinted pink. Those blue eyes bluer than the ocean and the sky and the flowers and anything he had ever seen stared up at him. Regret this? He couldn’t begin to imagine a scenario that would make him wish he hadn’t done this.

“Never.” He dipped his head to give him a kiss, their fingers laces together. Neither of them had even fully removed their shirts yet and they were sitting there with the confidence that the world would allow them to have one good thing.

Alfred’s lips were so warm and Lorenzo thought that this had to be what heaven felt like. The way he twitched, unsure of whether or not he was doing things right, the simple push for more that he was too shy to really ask for. Lorenzo broke away, chuckling at the short whine that escaped his lips. His lips pressed to his jaw and slowly down his neck while his hands searched for those pesky pants in the way.

* * *

“Okay.” he sighed, “I get it.”

“Good, then I can leave. I don’t know why you wasted my time and my money for this.” he huffed, turning around and making his way towards the door.

He thought of lingering kisses and breathless gasps from before. Beads of sweat and desperate grasps followed by a warm embrace and promises of adoration.

He thought of his words.

“So you regret it after all?” he asked, “You lied to me back then?”

It was enough to make Lorenzo freeze and Alfred had to admit, he loved seeing that. His clenched fists and refusal to turn around. The way he just _knew_ that he was rolling his eyes and the fact that he could see the way his shoulders were tensing. Though he knew there was little be triumphant about, he still smirked and stared ahead. He stared and waited for him to dare and turn around.

“Things were different back then.”

“So you lied? Why did you tell me that if you didn’t know how the future would play out?”

It was a stupid thing to ask and a stupid way to go about any of this.

“We were barely adults back then. I was stupid and you were naive still. I made a promise I shouldn’t have because there was no way that this wouldn’t end the same as it always has.”

“I’m not France.” he said through grit teeth.

Of all things to come back to, it had to be _him._ It drove him insane then and it did now. Was that all he had been to him? A replacement for the hole in his heart that never healed because of memories wiped? They had long conversations about it once. There were broken door hinges and dented doorknobs to prove it. He had lent his soul to him back then and kissed those knuckles until his lips had chapped.

And it _still_ came back to _him._

“I never said you were, America.”

“You used to call me by my name.”

“And you once promised you’d never hurt me.”

He wasn’t holding glass, but he wished he was because crushing the plastic water bottle wasn’t satisfying enough for everything crushing him now.

“I wasn’t the only one-”

“Is that going to be your excuse?” Lorenzo huffed, “That you weren’t the only one? Wow, I sure haven’t heard that one before.” his words hit like darts, “I didn’t say you were. You’re just another asshole I let hit it like a dumbass.”

“Are you ever going to forgive me?”

“I don’t know.”

* * *

Lorenzo watched as Alfred twitched under his touch. The soft gasps passing his lips as his fingers prodded inside of him and his mouth trailed delicate kisses on his thighs. He wondered if he would ever see a sight so pretty again.

He could hardly focus on what he was actually doing, too invested in the beauty of his rising chest and mouth that fell open ever so slightly. He watched as his face flushed and he wondered how much more beautiful he’d look when he actually touched him in those places that made him see the stars.

His answer came soon. Reaching just a little further, he moved in surprise as Alfred’s legs kicked and his mouth fell open, “Oh Lord. There! Again!”

Lorenzo was but a good lover and so kissing Alfred’s thigh again, he reached for that spot once more. Oh how Alfred fell apart in front of him - it was such a wonderful sight to see. His head turned and buried in a pillow, his legs quivering, the way his mouth fell open and was accompanied by the sweetest of moans.

Still, Lorenzo knew that he could do better. And so after being confident that he wouldn’t hurt him (at least not hurt him too much. These things were so hard to be sure of), he pulled his fingers out.

“I’ve been as careful as possible, caro mio, so if I do anything that hurts you, tell me and I will stop. The last thing I want to do is ruin this night for you.”

“I trust you, Lore.” he said, still nodding and keeping his eyes on him, “If it hurts or doesn’t feel good, I’ll tell you.”

He took Alfred’s hand and kissed his knuckles one by one. He couldn’t bear the thought of this night ending badly.

* * *

Years ago, Lorenzo was sure that he would never know a love like this one. Yet, the future only served to test him. He was a fool who tossed his heart to whoever gave him the slightest affections only to be left standing bruised and hurt - wondering when it had all gone downhill. He wondered when those promises in between kisses had turned sour.

It felt like just yesterday he had kissed his chest that was illuminated by the moon. How had it been longer than a week since Alfred kissed his knuckles one by one and told him he never wanted to lose him. How had the time passed so fast and left him a bitter shell of the man he used to be.

“Lore..” Alfred sighed, “I didn’t call you here to fight.”

He didn’t want him saying his name. He didn’t get such a right anymore - not after everything. As wonderful as it made him feel, as warm as it was, as much as the sun shined brighter when he called him like that, he couldn’t allow him such a right.

“You will call me Southern Italy only. You do not get to speak my name anymore, America.”

He stared at him, eyes losing light. The bright grin on his face from when he walked in faded to a mouth fallen open but unable to speak. His brows knit together and his hands fell to his sides lamely.

Alfred pulled his gaze away and stared at the floor, kicking it while he did.

“To me, you’ve always been just Italy.”

* * *

He was careful about the next steps. He made sure to use plenty of oil, terrified of doing a single thing wrong.

He was looking at him at the most awkward angle and despite how horribly unattractive it was with his head blending into his neck as he tried to peek, Lorenzo found himself falling more in love with him.

Love.

Yes, that was the right word to use here. He was enamored by his slightest actions and he couldn’t help longing for him more and more every day that he spent with him.

Kissing his thighs again and leaving dotty little marks, Lorenzo took a deep breath before carefully beginning to press his tip inside of Alfred. He watched carefully, noticing the way he winced and quickly leaning up to catch his lips in a kiss. His hand slipped away from his leg and went to stroking him.

When his chest fell and shoulders fell down rather than tensing up, he knew he was okay to continue.

It was funny - Alfred had so much more influence and power than him. He had money and charm and that was why he was here and that was why Lorenzo was working for him. All Lorenzo had known in life when sleeping with other nations was being assumed to take.

And yet Alfred asked him here to lay him out and make love to him. In all the time he spent working for him, he grew accustomed to his rather bitter demeanor and his tenseness. He was all too used to how prideful he could be and Lorenzo knew how hard it was to break him out of his shell again - getting him to smile like when they first met. The world and growing up so fast took a toll on him that he couldn’t begin to imagine. After all, he had grown up so slowly.

Just another way he and Alfred contrasted each other.

“I’m used to it! Stop teasing me! Lord, you’re so cruel.”

He burst into giggles at that. Perhaps he had daydreamed a little too long for Alfred. He always was so impatient.

Continuing to slide in and stop whenever those shoulders tensed, Lorenzo couldn’t let himself enjoy how wonderful this felt and how stunning Alfred looked on display for him. Not until he was sure that he was comfortable and that he wasn’t hurting too much.

Kissing the tears away, he murmured a soft, “Are you okay?” after bottoming out.

“I’m more than okay.” those blue eyes looked at him, glasses falling off of his face. He wore the dorkiest smile and it paired beautifully with that bright red face and those freckles he dreamt of kissing one by one.

Lorenzo dipped down for another kiss. And as he finally moved his hips, he thought that nothing could be better than this moment.

* * *

Alfred watched with careful eyes as Lorenzo turned around. His eyes were red and his jaw clenched.

“Is that why you punished me for what _he_ did?” his voice cracked.

No….

“Is that why the only time I was seen as Italy before him, it was to hurt me on his behalf?”

“Lorenzo-”

“My name is Southern Italy to you!” Alfred hadn’t even registered that he had been stepping closer to him until Lorenzo pushed him back, “Get away from me!”

He longed to feel like he did that night. He longed for the joy it brought him and the facade they had put up. He wanted to pretend he wasn’t hurt by the knowledge that it had probably only been a way for Lorenzo to get more money. He said it himself - he had done it before. _His mistakes._

Alfred was just another one of them.

And right now as he stared at Lorenzo and Lorenzo stared at him, he felt an awful churning in his stomach and the terrible longing to make another mistake. Another twenty mistakes. Or more. He didn’t care. But staring at Lorenzo and seeing the fire in his eyes only sent venom to his heart and crushed his throat. There was nothing that he could begin to say.

Lorenzo must have agreed too because he stared up just as quietly. The bitterness had died away and Alfred didn’t know if it was because he was plotting more words to fling or if he had worn himself out.

What he did know, however, is that he was still terribly in love with the man in front of him. His tears burned his soul and that glare could have killed him. Everything about the anger and sorrow being flung at him made him wish immortality was nothing but a myth.

Ghosts of kisses pressed to the side of his brain and he was reminded that this man most likely never loved him. He was still so foolish and such a terribly weak man. Nearly a century later and all he could do was stare wistfully and dream those sweet dreams that almost made reality bearable. With every blink, he felt his heart beat faster seeing him still there despite everything in him crying out and berating him for allowing himself to be used so casually then - how he wanted to be used again now to pretend this had always been like this and that he hadn’t believed with his heart that they would always be as close as they were back then. He wanted to feel like he had some of that night to cling to today because God knows that dream was all he had left to look at with hope that he was desired maybe once.

He was just that unloveable, wasn’t he?

“Just answer my question from before….did you lie then? Do you regret it?”

Alfred closed his eyes, refusing to meet his eyes when he answered. It was too much. He was too little. It had been too long but too short as well. Nationhood, immortality, time - it was far too confusing. Despite living the same miserable punishment as the rest of the nations, time for him seemed so slow when compared to how it worked for them and so the century between his last encounter with Romano seemed like ages to him but it was but a blink of the eye for him.

And after all, he had not been good to him even rather recently. His regrets piled up and he wondered how he had ever been deserving of those delicate touches.

“I don’t know.”

Alfred opened his eyes again and there were those beautiful hazel ones staring right back. Despite the fact they were blazing hotter than any heat he’d ever felt and the scowl on his face could have torn him apart (it already was).

He was terrible. Lorenzo was terrible for him. He knew that back then and he still knew it now and somehow he still let himself believe that maybe things could exist not how they were before but at least somewhat okay.

“I’m sorry.”

The millions of words racing through his head and all the emotions filling him up to the brim and his broken heart managed only that.

* * *

Alfred’s hands fell from around Lorenzo’s neck to the sheets below. He desperately attempted to grab at the sheets but every time he thought he got a good grip, Lorenzo hit that place that sent him to the stars.

Lorenzo’s name became a lifeline and he could focus on nothing else except the way his body was on fire and the soft kisses - kisses that were the only thing keeping Alfred from alerting the neighbors of their activities - that Lorenzo pressed to his lips.

“More-” It was all he could muster up in between the kisses and the fire that swallowed him.

Lorenzo’s chuckle against his throat really didn’t make it any easier for him to focus. He wasn’t sure he could ever return to Earth now - the sky became home.

“You’re so...good at this.” he gasped, clutching onto the sheets more. Was this always how this felt? Lorenzo didn’t even seem to be going that fast but he was somewhat bigger than he anticipated and so here he was, bouncing with every thrust of the hips, eyes going cross-eyed, glasses somewhere on the floor, a stupid grin on his face, and his unbuttoned shirt slipping off his shoulders. He wished he had just tossed it aside to begin with and not left it partially on.

Lorenzo kissed his jaw, thrusts sloppier, gripping a little more, panting and groaning against his shoulder more desperately than before.

“ _Alfred-”_

His toes curled and warmth built up. The way that pretty voice murmured his name. Was he forgetting English again now? Was it odd for him to say he loved when he did. He could listen to him speak in Italian forever and not care that he didn't understand a single word. 

_“I love you.”_

Lorenzo thrust into him perfectly on one more time and it was all it took for both of them to fall apart right there with the soft rain being their only witness.

* * *

If you had asked Lorenzo when it had happened, he could not have told you. One minute he had been cursing the ground Alfred walked on and damning the building they were in to hell and the next he had him pressed against his desk, teeth clacking as they hungrily searched for something in the presence of the other.

Lorenzo knew all too well what he was looking for in this.

His mind fell back to fantasies long destroyed and touches that turned everything to ashes.

He didn’t care that the shirt Alfred was ripping open and letting buttons fly from was pricey. He didn’t care that his tailored suit was getting wrinkled nor that his perfectly styled hair was being tugged at. No, he had not a single fuck to give.

Well. He had _one_ fuck to give and he was giving it to Alfred it seemed.

“Goddamn shirt doesn’t do you justice.” he muttered, pulling it down and staring hungrily at Lorenzo’s chest when they broke away from their beastly kisses (if you could even call those kisses).

Lorenzo didn’t answer, he only ripped Alfred’s shirt off, too impatient to be slow, and was working on that stupid belt like a child on a Christmas wrapper.

He was just as stunning as last time and for a moment, he almost stopped.

Instead, he shoved such feelings aside and focused on what seemed to matter right now.

Getting those tight pants off and drowning his feelings out through sex.

More clashing teeth, more large hickeys that would surely lead to more questions. Pants that felt too tight and Alfred’s desperate rutting against Lorenzo’s leg the best he could. Nothing about this was like before. It was too different, too distant - but they had come this far so why stop now?

Lorenzo paused for a moment to ask if Alfred had a condom but he caught sight of those eyes and it threw him back to those years ago when he lay beside him and promised the world to him.

As he asked for one, he made a not to never look him in the eyes if they ever did this again.

* * *

“Do you mean that?” Alfred asked. Big blue eyes stared up at Lorenzo while tired hands found their way to those curls.

Lorenzo pulled out and looked at him and how happy he looked hearing such a thing. He carried the brightest smile on the planet. The oceans in his eyes swirled and he lost himself in them for a moment - just a singular moment. He could see the worry beginning to grow on Alfred’s face at the thought that he hadn’t meant such things.

But how could Lorenzo not mean it?

He gently ran a finger over Alfred’s lips.

Kissing Alfred’s jaw and then his lips, nose, forehead….

Lorenzo kissed every part of Alfred there that he could and when he ran out of space on his face, neck, and shoulders, he took his hand and kissed each knuckle one by one.

“Of course. I do, caro mio. _I love you.”_

Burying his face in the palm of Alfred’s palm, Lorenzo watched as the grin grew on his face again and he rolled lazily to his side, “I love you too.”

The blush on Alfred’s face spoke volumes. They were adults and yet still as stupid and in love as two school children. Adults who had no business being next to each other like this...and Lorenzo couldn’t stop thinking about how much he adored every moment around Alfred and how he wanted to bask in it more.

“Will we always be like this?” Alfred asked.

Lorenzo sat up.

He had never had an endeavor end well and something told him this one would end just as poorly. And yet - he was still too much of an idiot to not jump in enthusiastically. The way that Alfred looked at him, the moonlight that made that blonde hair shine like the brightest river.

_“Always, Alfred.”_

He kissed his nose before sitting up to find something to wipe themselves off with, eventually deciding he didn’t mind ruining his shirt.

Expensive shirts and pretty clothing meant very little compared to Alfred and the moment here. Bits of hair stuck to his head with sweat and the dopey smile on his face from how satisfied he was (which Lorenzo was grateful for because had their first time been rather poor he might have sobbed).

“Always…” he murmured again. Within a few seconds, he was pulling Lorenzo into his arms, kissing the top of his head. He had no qualms. Nuzzling into the crook of his neck, he thought about how nice life would be if it were always like this. It was a very optimistic thing to consider, but he believed there in the afterglow that they would truly last forever.

They had to.

Lorenzo had never known something like this. He was launched into a world of emotions he never knew and he felt like the bad was over and that nothing could hurt him ever again. Alfred’s sparkling eyes did things to him. His heart raced, his breath hitched, and his arms felt so weak that he thanked the Lord he chose to lay close to his chest.

When was the last time he was able to sleep with someone and not feel guilty or dirty after?  
Thinking about that, Lorenzo thought about everyone who he had loved once before and how it led him here. Everyone that tossed him aside and eventually added more bruises to the many he wore.

And though he had heard others saying that Alfred was just as bad and that he was nobody to trust, Lorenzo couldn’t help but want to stay close.

Nationhood was too complicated - too grey. He had his fair share of mistakes and poorly executed ambitions that burned him in the end. Though he had never escaped the hole of subjugation, he knew well that he had his own ghosts that haunted him. Perhaps that was what stopped him from hating Alfred too much.

Nobody was going to get any better.

Life was always going to be grey and miserable for them and so he latched onto someone who at least understood and cared. Or at least put up a good facade and made him believe that he did.

“Hey, Alfred?”

“Yeah?”

He closed his eyes, holding on just a little bit tighter.

“You...wanted to do this right? It wasn’t to get something or to…..uhm-”

Calloused hands cupped his cheek.

“I one hundred percent wanted to do this. Lorenzo….I promise that I will never hurt you. You mean too much to me. My most wonderful Italy.”

He smiled brighter and when he eventually fell asleep, those words were the warmest and softest blanket that gave him the sweetest dreams to go to.

He was loved…

He wouldn’t be hurt this time.

* * *

They quickly learned that this was nothing like last time. Alfred only grunted as Lorenzo slammed into him. Papers flew off the table and he knew that it would be a bitch to get printed again later, but he didn’t care.

His shirt fell down his shoulders and he saw Lorenzo’s eyes widen just a little and his pace slowed. He couldn’t figure out why but he didn’t bother to think too deeply about it because Lorenzo returned to his normal pace quite quickly.

 _“I hate you.”_ Lorenzo hissed.

Of course he did.

“I hate you too, you fucking asshole.” Alfred groaned.

He really didn’t. He loved Lorenzo as much as he had that night. He wanted to hold his hand and kiss his knuckles and love him.

But that wasn’t what he wanted, was it?

Lorenzo didn’t love him now and he hadn’t loved him then. He had used him for money, he had used him for a warm body. He knew that Alfred cared back then - he was so terrible at hiding it back then - and he used it to his advantage.

And like an absolute moron, Alfred allowed himself to be used and tossed aside and he was doing it again now but now it was even more shameful. He was being used and he didn’t even have the delicateness from before to cling to. Memories of kisses and waking up to a sore body but Lorenzo kissing him with all the adoration in the world and breakfast waiting.

He missed the domesticity of it all.

He missed his greetings and his smile and how he always asked him how his day was. Alfred longed for it - he craved it every day that he worked himself to the bone to avoid going home. He wanted the dinners and the cuddles and his singing back. The kitchen was too quiet every day from then and still now without the sound of Lorenzo singing a song to him.

The garden was too empty (and too dead now. He couldn’t bear to step into it after Lorenzo left) and the blankets _still_ smelled just like him. Or at least, he thought that they did.

But maybe this was better.

Maybe it was better to have Lorenzo just fuck him on his desk. It took away everything that made their first night so special.

It broke his heart, but he deserved it and he needed it because he needed to learn to let go of this and stop clinging to him.

This time when he came, he didn’t see the stars. He only felt the regret come crashing down fast.

* * *

Lorenzo gently placed breakfast on the dresser next to the bed.

Alfred stirred and then winced.

Ah, yes. He should have probably done his best to warn him about how it would feel later. He reached over and kissed the side of his head, murmuring a soft apology.

“Mmm...sore. But is that food I smell?”

He chuckled and nodded, “Of course you wake up for the food. Piggy.”

“Nooo” he cracked an eye open, patting around for his glasses but giving up after a little, “I woke up because an angel is in front of me.”

“Alfred, that was so cheesy.” he snorted, “Come on, let’s get you some food and then I’ll cuddle with you. You are okay though, right? I didn’t hurt you?”

“Not at all, darlin'. Just tired me out.” he chuckled, “Really tired out. And blind. Where are my glasses?”

“I have no idea. Do you want to look for them right now?”

Alfred flopped over and shook his head, “No. I want to cuddle mostly. I think work can wait for today.”

That surprised him. He had been trying to get Alfred to take a break since he first noticed how hard he worked himself two years ago and always failed. He insisted that his work came first and that if he took a break, he’d never finish things. Every massage he promised he would take a break someday and then never did. Despite all of his deepest and most desperate protests and begs for him to take a trip with him somewhere nice to relax, Alfred made excuse after excuse. It wore him down and he was left doing nothing but making dinner and attempting to give him a nice break every time he came home and looked so exhausted. Alfred suggesting not doing his work was so odd and unexpected. Still...

He wasn’t going to dare protest it now.

“Cuddling sounds like the perfect thing to do today.”

* * *

Alfred watched as Lorenzo wiped himself off with some tissues and fixed his hair as if nothing had ever happened. He wanted to ask how he could be so stoic but he knew the years of nationhood and his own attempts to be taken seriously by giving himself away were what left him like this.

Those long talks from ages ago seemed like only a blink before and he still remembered the tears he wiped away, the hands that he held and the way Lore refused to leave his side the entire night.

And now he did the very thing he had sworn off back then.

Alfred should have known better than to believe he was any more special than anyone else.

“Don’t tell anyone about this.” he finally spoke, wiping himself down and prying his eyes away from Lorenzo.

“Why would I?” he scoffed, zipping up his pants, “Don’t you go telling anyone this happened either..”

“Why would I?” Alfred furrowed his brows.

“Dunno...just saying. And uhm...let me know if you need help covering up the hickeys I guess. I don’t know how well your makeup skills are.”

He nodded and looked up seeing his greatest desire by the door. He wished he felt less disgusting right now. He wished he didn’t want to rip his skin off and cry because dear God what had he done?

Lorenzo smiled at him.

It was so faint and so small, but he smiled and it was the first time Alfred had seen in ages. He was thrown back to nights when Lorenzo would drag him into some dumb dance that he claimed was traditional but they both knew that it wasn’t. But he always smiled so brightly and when they eventually fell to the floor laughing too hard, he would tell Alfred that he was one step closer to becoming Italian by association. 

It lifted him up higher than he had been in years. For a moment, he thought that maybe things _could_ be how they used to be.

But when he walked out the door and shut it behind him, he came plummeting back down to Earth and remembered that reality wasn’t one to feed into his hopes.

Picking up the shattered glass pieces of his heart, Alfred burst into tears.

* * *

“Some mail came for you today.”

“Really? Why me?”

Alfred shrugged and made his way to his office.

* * *

He buttoned his shirt back up and stared at his door. As he lazily redid his tie and half-heartedly fixed his hair, he decided that work could wait today. Right now, he needed to think about what had happened.

It was nothing like he wanted and nothing that he - deep in his heart - really wanted.

But...he had to admit….for a minute there….

...it almost felt like everything was okay.

* * *

Alfred opened the door. It had been another tiring day and he just couldn’t wait to eat whatever dinner Lorenzo prepared.

He raised a brow when he closed the door and there was no music. There was the smell of food, but nothing else to indicate that another person was there.

“Lore?”

He put his things down, grabbing the baseball bat he kept near. It wasn’t like Lorenzo to not answer and….this was such an odd hole in their routine.

Had somebody broken in? No..nothing was burning and Lorenzo always cooked at the same time every day. Maybe there was minimal cooking? Or maybe the intruder had turned off the stove.

Taking cautious steps forward, he heard his heart beating fast. The kitchen was close….he needed to see if there was anything in there that could help him figure out where his wonderful Italy had gone.

But when he turned and jumped, there he was sitting at the table holding some paper and refusing to look up despite the loud clatter of the bat against the floor.

“Lorenzo?”

He slowly made his way over, “Darlin, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Lorenzo kept his head down, not a word being uttered. He didn’t move at all. Even when Alfred reached to gently wipe his tears because he noticed ink on the paper smudging from it.

“Lore…” he murmured, “Please talk to me.”

He sighed and blinked away some of his tears, wiping away the rest. Folding the paper neatly, he shakily handed it to Alfred.

“I have to go home now.”

He knew that this day was coming and he knew that he couldn’t keep Lorenzo around forever. Ultimately at least. Still, part of him longed for the idea of keeping him in his house and loving him and…

He longed for those things that humans got. He craved a domestic life and he dreamed of finding someone who he would grow old with.

He dreamed of growing old with Lorenzo.

Alfred cursed immortality and eternal youth. He thought that life would be so much easier without it. Maybe he would feel less inclined to bury himself in his work and drown himself in dozens of things that wouldn’t matter in a year or two.

“Oh.”

He knew he should read the letter that he was handed - after all, that was why it was handed to him - but he couldn’t get past his heart shriveling in his chest and his vision was beginning to cloud from the tears that were streaming down his face now.

He was leaving.

He was practically gone then.

Sweet..hopeless romantic dreams slipped past his fingers and hopes of a life with peace turned to dust.

Lorenzo was going home…

He was all alone again.

Just as he would always be.

He was stupid to think that this could work.

He was stupid to have sex with him.

He was stupid...

“I think I’ll go to bed early tonight. I’m not that hungry.”

* * *

[MESSAGE SENT TO: Italy] ‘Do you wanna stop by my office again next week?’

**Author's Note:**

> 🐀 this is a rat for Loca smh


End file.
